Memoirs of the Lost One
by elysianfieldz
Summary: Hazel Diggory knew nothing of her past and certainly could not have seen what lay in her future. Told in the first person narrative as a spoken memoir, Hazel recounts her life as the lost one
1. Chapter 1

The words in italics are the thoughts of the narrator, and main character, Hazel Diggory. The story takes place in the first person narrative, most of which takes place in the past. The italics present in the present as Hazel narrates the story of her life.

Disclaimer: I have created the characters in the following chapter. As of right now there are no known characters that belong to corporations such as Warner Brothers or J.K. Rowling. In future chapters I am sure that some familiar Harry Potter names will appear and I in no way own them. I am not making profit off this story or anything that may potentially be owned by someone else. Thank you for reading.

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_I remember the story now, as I sit by the foggy window, gazing into what my life used to be. That day on the street changed my life forever. Who would have thought that a random discarded tree branch would have thrust my life in a whole new direction; towards new friends, new adventures, and a new life? I wonder what would have happened if I had continued walking and ignored that branch and the eerie man lurking in the corner beyond the pizza shop. If only I knew. But I wouldn't change it for the world. Picking up that branch was the best thing that ever happened to me. _

_As I look back on my life, stuck in this feeble old body of mine, I yearn for the adventures I once had after leaving that awful foster home. To think, that day on the street, I had planned to run from that place and get as far away from it as I possibly could. I had planned it so carefully but I had ever really planned to execute it? Perhaps, maybe, no… it couldn't be. Maybe he knew, maybe they knew? Was my whole life planned from that day in the Market? It couldn't be. But nothing else would explain it. _

It all began nearly fifty years in the past, in the dirty, over-populated, downtown core of London, England. I, Hazel Diggory lived in a foster home with thirteen other children, and one very large, overweight, sad excuse for a mother named Miss Argus. She wasn't my real mother, just the woman I had to live with after my parents died. She used me as a free maid, cleaning up after her and her spoiled rotten thirteen children who had been left to fend for themselves after Mr. Argus had left. I had ended up at Miss Argus' after my parents died in what the newspapers called a "freak accident". I had only been about two years old at the time; we were on our way back from a day in the country. As the car rounded the corner just at the outskirts of town a truck lost control and overturned, skidding right towards my parent's car. There was no time for them to react, and what happened next was described as "the most horrendous accident seen in English history". I was never told the full extent of the accident, just that my parents had died instantly, and that the soul eye-witness, an older gangly man, had pulled me from the wreck to safety just before the car went up in flames. The newspapers never got to speak to him as he disappeared just as the sirens could be heard in the distance. Because my parent's union hadn't been the most wanted marriage in family history, there were no relatives willing to take on the burden of their offspring, and so I ended up at Miss Argus' house.

Miss Argus often sent me out of the house, usually when it was raining, to gather her groceries and run her errands for her. I often found myself cherishing the short moments I had to myself as I traveled from shop to shop gathering her things. This particular story begins on one of those few cherished moments.

I was walking down the street; Miss Argus had sent me to fetch her laundry. She never did anything for herself. Her beloved children never lifted a precious finger and I did all the work. Miss Argus was able to get away with it because she always explained it away as offering me a place to stay, free of charge, and all I had to do was a few odd chores. Few was an understatement. I did the washing, the cleaning, the sweeping, made the beds, washed the other children's laundry; Miss Argus had hers professionally cleaned, she didn't feel that I would do it properly. My life there was miserable, all the days spent cleaning and scrubbing, my mind was constantly working on different plans to get out of there. _To think, I spent so many wasted years there, but as I think back, maybe there was a purpose behind it all, maybe there was a lesson to be learned from those who had made my life so miserable._

I had been walking down the street, contemplating whether or not to sneak in a slice of pizza and tell Miss Argus that her washing had been more than expected. I was so caught up in trying to think of the perfect excuse, that I hadn't noticed the scuffle that had started just up ahead. I continued to walk on, I had finally decided to get the slice for lunch and just tell Miss Argus that the washing had been a few pounds more to remove the butter stain on her favourite sweater, when I noticed three large men chasing a very elderly man, who was running in my direction. I had gotten used to occurrences like this one, what with all the shoplifting and pickpockets found on the London streets, that I paid no heed to the man and his pursuers. I continued walking, attempting to ignore the man, that is until he came barreling towards me nearly out of breath. He grabbed the hem of my tattered jacket and begged me to listen to him.

"Please miss, please, just listen to me. I know this sounds crazy, but believe me I'm not. I've been sent to look after you, I've watched for all these years. I believe you're ready; in fact I know you are" he said in an almost whisper before he ran off towards the alley behind me. I noticed as he fled that he dropped what appeared to be a tree branch from his pocket. I tried to call out to him, let he know he dropped something. He turned once to glance at me and if I didn't know any better I swear he even winked at me. But then he disappeared into alley before I could say another word.

I bent down and picked up the branch as the two pursuers followed into the alley. It was such a strange looking branch. It was smooth with a touch of the slightest curve at the center. It was a deep crimson colour, the colour of a blood red rose; the ones Miss Argus liked to buy for herself and pretend were from her secret admirer. _The more I think about it, the more I can't believe I didn't see it then. How naïve I had been to think it was merely a tree branch. Of course, that was the beginning of the rest of my life. Of course it had all been planned, that meeting was just the beginning. _


	2. Chapter 2

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I pocketed the branch unsure both of why I did so, and why the man had been carrying it. Thoughts raced through my mind as I absent mindedly forgot about the slice of pizza I had wanted. Who was that man? What had he meant by me "being ready"? Surely he had to have been insane. What right minded person speaks that way to a complete stranger? And who were those men chasing after him?

By the time I had snapped out of my thoughts I was already at Miss Argus' door step. I had paid careful attention to making sure that no one, especially Miss Argus' annoying children, saw that I was carrying something new in my pocket. I walked up the steps, my face hung down, and I didn't even notice Miss Argus standing there as I walked right into her.

"And where have you been? You are twelve minutes late. You know I need that washing for when I go out tonight." She had said in an angry tone. I of course knew that by "going out" she just meant hanging around by herself at the coffee shop when she told her children she was out on a date with her "admirer".

"I, ummm, I…" I was trying to figure out some story that would explain why I had been late.

"Well out with it already. It's not like I have all day" Miss Argus said, her face turned a light shade of red, making her look like a tomato.

"I'm sorry Miss Argus. When I went to the cleaners the attendant hadn't realized that there was a butter stain in your sweater and wanted to fix the mistake right away. She offered to remove it right there without any extra charge. I thought that since it was your favourite sweater, that you wouldn't mind if I was a little bit late. I'm really sorry" I said, happy that I had come up with a reasonable answer for her.

"Fine then, whatever, just get in the house. The dishes need to be washed" she had said as she pushed me in the door, past the gawking eyes of her children.

I was glad she hadn't pushed about my lateness anymore. I didn't want to give her any reason to doubt where I had been, and I most certainly didn't want her to get a hold of what was hidden in my pocket. After I had washed the dishes, swept the floor, made the children dinner, and hung up Miss Argus' washing, I was free to head to my room. I took a few slices of bread and a can of vegetable soup up with me to enjoy my meal in peace and quiet. And of course, I had wished to find out more about the mysterious man and the tree branch.

When I was up in my tiny attic room, merely big enough for my old rusty bed and night stand, I laid stomach down on my bed, the food sitting on the floor beside me. I took the branch out of my pocket and ran my fingers around the tip. It was eerily smooth for a piece of wood. It was as if someone had polished it. As I twirled it with my fingers the strangest thing happened. I had been lazily staring into space, twirling the object, completely forgetting about the day's occurrences, daydreaming about the man from the streets and what his story might have been when all of a sudden red sparks shot from the branch. I dropped it instantly. What on earth had happened? Hopefully no one downstairs had heard the disturbance. I waited with baited breath to hear any movement from downstairs. And surely enough the grunting sounds of Miss Argus' eldest child Margaret could be heard at the base of the stairs.

"What on earth do you think you're doing up there? Creating all that racket." She bellowed from below.

"I just stubbed my toe that is all" I said, it was the first thing that had come to mind.

"Oh good, you deserve it for being late today. Mother almost made me wash the dishes. You know what happened last time you had Mother make me do the washing." She said as she walked back to watch the tele.

"Phew, that was close" I had said aloud. I bent over to pick up the branch, which had rolled under my bed. When I looked back up there was a strange bird sitting on the windowsill. I had attempted to ignore it but it continued to stare at me. As I went over to bang the window in attempts to get the bird to leave, I noticed another bird of the same type sitting just down the roof from its fellow friend. These were a different type of bird than me usually saw here. They must have been owls by their looks, but surely I had never seen another owl like these two. I made it to the window and rapped on the glass. Neither bird moved. In fact they seem to be wishing me to open the window. _Surely they couldn't have. But that would explain a lot. In fact, as I think about it now, they were probably willing me to open that window. _As I reached for the latch, the pair seemed to get excited. I watched them for a moment and they calmed down, so I felt it safe to open the window. With one fell swoop they had both landed on my bed.

"What on earth?" I exclaimed to the birds. Both of whom now sat, very comfortably I might add, on my bed. One on the pillow, the other on the footboard. I hadn't really been paying attention to the little details of the birds, more along the lines of trying to figure out why they were there. As I stared unfocused at the bird on the end of my bed, I hadn't noticed that the other was slowing inching towards me.

"Ouch! That hurt" I said as I nursed my bitten finger. "What did you do that for?" That was when I noticed it. Was it really what I thought it was? Could it really be? Could that really be parchment tied to the bird's ankle?

I had reached forward and untied the paper from the small bird's foot. It was as if this was what they had been waiting for. The second the knot was undone the birds took flight. Out the window they flew and were out of sight within seconds. My hands had shaken a little as I unrolled the paper. "What a weird day" I had thought to myself. What I read on the parchment left me shocked and intrigued.

"Meet me at the pub just around the corner. 10pm sharp. Bring no one, just yourself and that wand I left you. Ask no questions. Tell no one. That's 10 pm sharp. Be there. This is your only chance"

What on earth did this mean? Why had two owls delivered me a letter? Who was telling me to meet them at a pub that late after dark? And what did they mean by "your only chance"? The note had left me in a state of bewilderment


End file.
